


Why Voldy Doesn't March Up to People's Doors

by AsILayDying



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, F/M, Humor, Insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 17:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16560536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsILayDying/pseuds/AsILayDying
Summary: Sirius said to Harry in the fifth book that Voldemort doesn't march up people's houses and bang on their doors. Well that's because he doesn't have to. His faithful followers will do it for him. Complete insanity. Mild Draco/Hermione towards the end.





	Why Voldy Doesn't March Up to People's Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Let’s get this part over with, shall we? Neither Harry Potter nor the Teletubbies is mine.
> 
>  
> 
> I was reading fanfiction on the website when I got the inspiration for this story.
> 
> In book five: The Order of the Phoenix. Chapter five: The Order of the Phoenix, Sirius says this to Harry. 
> 
> 'Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry.' pause 'He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them. He's well practiced in operating in secrecy.'
> 
> Well I figured, poor Voldy having to do all that just to gain followers. Wouldn't it just be far simpler not to mention more fun just to send out his Death Eaters and let them go door to door making fools of themselves?
> 
> Well fun for us anyways.

Why Voldy Doesn't March Up To People's Door's. 

 

It is around seven o'clock in the evening. All was quiet in the neighborhood. Two rows of houses lined each side of the street, complete with carefully kept lawns and white picket fences. A truly uneventful looking place. 

Off in the distance, there was a loud pop. Another one followed it and pretty soon two middle-aged men walked into view. One of them was rather taller than the other. Long black cloaks covered most of their thin bodies. In their hands were rather long sticks, partially hidden by their baggy sleeves. The two men came to a halt at a house near the end of the street. They glanced around to make sure that no one was watching them before they leaned their heads in and began conversing in hushed tones.

“Is this the house?” the taller one said.

“I think so,” the other one replied. He pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. It was a Hello Kitty notebook and was easily his favorite. He pulled it open to the third page and after a quick check he nodded. 

“Yes this is the one.”

“Now how exactly are we going to go about this Dolohov?” his companion asked as he rang the bell.

“I told you!” Dolohov hissed. “We are to wait for her to answer the door. Then we will make our proposal.”

“Which is?” the tall one remarked.

“You have been with the Dementer's too long Rookwood,” Dolohov remarked. “They have destroyed what little common sense you once possessed.”

Rookwood glared at him. Dolohov sighed. “Look just follow my lead okay?”

The door swung open then to reveal a young woman of about twenty-five or so. She was blond and rather pretty. She was currently regarding them in confusion. 

Dolohov cleared his throat importantly and stepped forward. “Good evening,” he said. “Would you happen to be Mara Bradley?” 

“Yes I am,” she replied, her hand reaching for her pocket where her wand was hidden. “Who are you two?”

“That hardly matters,” Dolohov continued in a pleasant sounding voice. “We are here to inform you that you are being offered a lifetime membership in our club.”

“Club?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes club,” Rookwood spoke up. “The Dead Biters.”

Dolohov smacked his forehead with his palm. “It's the Death Eaters not Dead Biters, you moron,” he growled.

“Oh right.” Rookwood flushed slightly. “Sorry about that.” Dolohov just shook his head at him.

“Anyways,” he said as he turned back to Bradley. “How about it? Our Lord has received word that you are a most proficient Charms Mistress. You would most certainly be an asset to our cause.”

She stared at him in shock. “B-but you can't be Death Eaters,” she stammered. “The Minister said that You-Know-Who was still dead.”

“Yes, well, that's why he is the Minister,” Dolohov replied. “Because he is about as bright as my companion here.” he gesticulated towards Rookwood.

“You, the Minister said...” Bradley let out squeak of terror and slammed the door shut in their faces.

Dolohov groaned. “Bitch,” he hissed. “We should Crucio her.”

“We could come back later and do it,” Rookwood agreed. “Who do we have next?”

Dolohov pulled out his notebook again and flipped through it once more. “Chloe Montague,” he read. He glanced up at Rookwood, confused. “What’s with all the female recruits?”

“Well think about it,” Rookwood reasoned. “The only female Death Eaters we have right now are Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy, and Alecto Carrow. Malfoy may be of some use when she's not busy staring at herself in a mirror; but Lestrange is a perfect example of a Muggle sociopath and Carrow is probably the reason that marrying siblings is illegal in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds.”

Dolohov thought about it, and then nodded. “I guess so.” he spun on his heel and vanished with a soft pop. Rookwood followed a moment later.

oooOOOOOOOooo

Upon arriving at the destination in mind, the two mounted the steps leading up to the house. “Let me do the taking,” Dolohov advised as he knocked on the door. Rockwood shrugged, but nodded. 

The door flung open to reveal a middle-aged brunette wearing long pale yellow robes. She eyed them with suspicion just like the woman before her had.

“Can I help you both?” she asked. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Montague is it?” she nodded her head, looking more questioning than ever. “We were informed about you're excellent dueling abilities and wish to offer you membership in our club.”

She groaned. “Not again! Don't you Death Munchers ever learn to take a hint?”

Dolohov blinked. “Excuse me?” he asked. “I'm afraid I don't understand.”

“A married couple came here earlier trying to recruit,” Montague groaned. “They were most persistent in getting me to join. I finally shooed them off when I threated to place them under the Imperious Curse and make them cut their own hair off. They were gone from here so fast; I barely had time to blink.”

“They didn't happen to both have platinum blond hair and look like they had both been cloned from the same source, did they?” Rookwood asked smirking. To his surprise, the woman smirked slightly as well. 

“That would be a fairly apt description of them yes,” she agreed. 

Dolohov however, was not amused. “Well that’s wonderful for them!” he snapped. “But I have a job to do and it involves getting you to join the Dead Nibblers, err, Death Eaters.”

The woman’s face grew cold. “Well you can forget it!” she snapped back at him. “I won't join.”

Dolohov had enough of this. Two rejections in one day were not going to please his lord and he didn't want to displease Lord Voldemort. 

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE DOES TO HIS FOLLOWERS WHEN THEY DON'T FOLLOW ORDERS CORRECTLY?” he screamed at Montague. “HE GETS REALLY SAD AND INSISTS VERY TEARFULLY THAT NO ONE CARES ABOUT HIM. THEN HE MAKES...HE MAKES YOU...”

“Come about Dolohov, get it all out,” Rookwood said, patting him comfortingly on the back. “She has a right to know.”

“He m-makes them watch a Muggles children's show with him,” Dolohov stammered. “The...the Teletubies!” he collapsed on the ground sobbing. Montague stared down at him in shock. 

She leaned in down beside him and gave him a hug. He clung to her, still weeping like a child. 

“All t-t-hose br-righ-tt c-colors,” he wailed. “All t-the s-singing and d-d-dancing.”

“You poor dear,” she said sadly. “I had no idea.”

“It g-gets worse,” he wept. “S-sometimes he makes us all dress up like them and sing and dance for him. It's horrible.”

“That is awful,” Montague said softly. He looked up at her hopefully.

“Will you j-join then?” he asked. 

“No sorry,” she replied. Dolohov gave her a hurt look and pulled out his wand. He jumped to his feet. She followed suit, her own wand out. 

“You are evil,” he cried. “You are just refusing so that he will be sad and make us watch Teletubbies with him. You think that is funny.” his wand trembled slightly as he spoke. 

“Not quite,” she replied. “It's more because I don't want to have to watch the Teletubbies with him nor do I have any desire to dress up like one.” 

He threw a killing curse at her. She ducked and it went sailing over her head. Looking fierce, she then showed them exactly why she was such a prized dueler.

oooOOOOOOOooo

A few hours later, they arrived at their next destination looking just like the fictional creatures that they despised so much. Knocking on the door, they attempted to cover as much of themselves as possible with their cloaks. The door was flung open and a teenager came into view. He was about eighteen or nineteen from the looks of it with a mop of bright red hair and a load of freckles. He stared at them in confusion.

Rookwood leaned over and whispered in Dolohov's ear. “This kid looks like a Weasley. But we wouldn't dare recruit any of them. They are the biggest bunch of blood traitors to ever exist.”

Dolohov shrugged. Turning to the boy, he smiled as widely as he could. “Is err...,” he checked the notebook. “Well what do you know, it is a Weasley! Is Molly Weasley here?”

The boy blinked. “Who are you?” he asked. “More importantly, what are you?”

Dolohov growled. “I'm a Teletubbie, you fool. You're all blood traitors, surely your well acquainted with Muggle T.V. shows. 

The boy shook his head. 

“No!” Rookwood replied. “Well, anyways, what my friend here was saying...” he never got to finish because at the moment, a woman came out into the hall. She was about middle-aged, red-haired like the boy but was shorter than him and far plumper. She stared at the two in the door way with suspicion. 

“What is gong on here?” she asked as she approached them. She reached her son and turned to address him. “Who are they?”

The boy just shrugged. “They say that they are Telepuppies or something.”

“No,” Dolohov said feeling frustrated. “We are not Teleubbies!”

“But you said...” the boy began but Dolohov silenced him by pulling out his wand. He aimed it directly at the boy's heart. “NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME, YOU LITTLE BLOOD TRAITOROUS BASTARD. YOU WILL NEVER DISRESPECT ME LIKE THAT AGAIN OR I'LL CRUCIO YOU SO BAD, YOU'LL HAVE YOUR OWN BED IN ST. MUNGO'S BESIDE THE LONGBOTTOM'S BEFORE YOU CAN SAY TORTURE!”

With that said he lowered his wand, and turning to Molly Weasley, smiled again. “Anyways, if you are Molly Weasley, then I am here to inform you that you have been offered a place at my Lord's side. Being the powerful witch that you are noted on being, as well as the only living Prewett.”

Molly just stared at him. “Is this some sort of joke,” she asked.

“Now I know that it is a great honor and probably comes as a bit of a shock to you...”

“No,” she interjected. “I just don't understand. What in Merlin's name are Teletubbies and we do they want me to join them?”

Dolohov looked like he was going to start crying again. Beside him, Rookwood gave a little giggle. He turned to him glaring. “Excuse me. Did you just giggle?”

Rookwood didn't answer. Instead he started to giggle again. Sighing with frustration, Dolohov turned to Molly again. 

“Sorry about him. He's fairly stupid. Anyways, no I am not a Teletubbie. I just temporarily look like one.”

“You said you were though,” the boy said.

“I WAS BEING SARCASTIC, YOU LITTLE INBRED BRAT!” he screamed. 

Molly looked affronted. “Now really!” she exclaimed. “Me and Arthur are only second cousins. For the Wizarding world, thats good. You don't see Ron here with crossed eyes or something, do you?” she gestured towards her son.

“Fine then if you are going to get snippy, I will get to the chase. Will you join the Death Snackers? Dammit!” he smacked his forehead in frustration. “The...the Death Eaters that's it!”

There was silence for a moment. “You know,” Molly began quietly. “I understand why you would be hard pressed for recruits. I mean, how many people are going to find two large odd looking babies even remotely frightening?”

“Believe me, you would be surprised,” Rookwood said. Beside him, Dolohov gave a little whimper. 

“Will you join then?” Rookwood asked.

“Not likely,” Molly replied. “Unless you two would agree to come entertain guests at my new granddaughter Victoire's 1st birthday.”

“Err, no thank you,” Rookwood responded. Dolohov looked slightly ill. He didn't even protest this time as the door slammed in their faces.

Turning to Dolohov, Rookwood remarked. “Well that went well.”

Dolohov glared at him. “Shut up.”

“Well at least this time we weren't turned into another horrendous Muggle fictional creature,” he pointed out.

Dolohov ignored him. Pulling out his notebook, he checked over the list. “Well next we have Miles and Trixie Macmillan to attempt to recruit.”

Rookwood nodded. “Let’s get this done with, I want to go home and watch my Muggle soaps.”

Dolohov snorted. Rookwood looked highly affronted. 

“No really!” he insisted. “They aren't nearly as bad as most wizards think. The one I'm watching is quite interesting. It...”

There was a soft pop as Dolohov disaparated. Rookwood looking annoyed at being interrupted, spun on his heel and vanished also.

oooOOOOOOOooo

“So then she was like, you are not my baby's father, Glen. It's your brother, Andy's. He was completely shocked, but I totally saw it coming!” Rookwood insisted. 

“Sounds fascinating,” Dolohov commentated dryly. He could really care less about Muggle T.V shows. His real weakness (not that he'd ever admit it, of course) was Disney's Cinderella. He always shed a few tears of happiness when everything worked out well for her in the end and she got her Prince Charming. 

The two stood on the front stoop of the house. Dolohov knocked while Rookwood prattled on about the Megan/Glen/Andy love triangle. 

“He was all like, you have violated my trust Megan. How could you? Then she said, well you cheated on me first.”

“For Merlin's sake, would you shut the bloody hell up?” Dolohov snapped not being able to take anymore. Rookwood stopped talking and looked at him hurtfully. Dolohov felt relief course through him when the door was opened. 

“Excuse me,” the man at the door said. “Can I help you?”

“Yes hello, would you happen to be Miles Macmillan?” Dolohov asked. 

“Yes, that’s me,” the man answered, looking puzzled. “Who are you? Let me rephrase that. What are you?”

“We are Teletubbies,” Rookwood answered. “But we are also Death Biters, here to offer you a lifetime membership in our club.”

He tried to make it sound like it was some sort of grand honor. Unfortunately it didn't work. Miles slammed the door in their faces. From the other side of the door, they faintly made out a woman’s voice asking Miles what that was all about.

“It was nothing, Trixie, just some Muggles playing dress up.”

“Muggles!” Dolohov cried scandalously. “I'll give you Muggles!” he made for his pocket and was about to pull out his wand when Rookwood grabbed a hold of him to keep him from running full charge at the front door. He then pulled Dolohov's notebook out of the man's pocket and after checking it, vanished along with Dolohov.

The two appeared again on another street. Shrugging Rookwood off of him, Dolohov started down the street after being told their location with Rookwood right beside him. They both came to a halt in front of a large blue house. Both men looked at each other.

“Are you sure that this is wise?” Rookwood asked.

“No,” Dolohov answered. “I know that our Lord is rather desperate to have spy's within the Order, but I do feel that this is a tad bit too extreme.”

“She is supposedly a very gifted witch,” he mused as Rookwood knocked on the door. “and a brilliant Legilimens.”

“But she is a mudblood!” Rookwood exclaimed. “We never allow them to join.”

“Well he is right, we do need a spy,” Dolohov insisted. “After Snape turned out to be a traitor, we need to receive information about them somewhere.”

“But why her?” Rookwood questioned.

“Well..” Dolohov began. “For starters, she apparently, according to Narcissa is dating Draco Malfoy with perfect knowledge that he is a Death Eater.”

From the doorway, they heard someone laugh. “Draco is about as much a Death Eater as the pet rabbit I kept when I was six.” Hermione Granger smiled coldly at them. She was standing tall, her wand in her right hand. She lightly traced the fingers o her left hand over the edge of the wand as she watched them.

“He's a coward,” she continued. “and a weakling. But an amazingly good kisser and quite charming when he wants to be. He is also rather good in...well you don't really need to know about that.” she smiled sweetly at the pair of them. They stared at her in shock.

“So old Voldymoldy is trying to recruit, is he?” the two of them nodded their heads. “How great for him. Tell me, is he really that desperate that he would send you guys all door to door like a couple of Girl Scouts selling cookies?”

“Now you see here, you little mudblood!” Dolohov exclaimed angrily but Hermione cut him off.

“Mudblood. That’s exactly what Lucius Malfoy called me when he came here with his wife. They didn't want me dating their son, you see.” she smiled a sickeningly pleasant smile at them. “They are currently lying on my living room floor, sobbing their eyes out because I made their hair fall out and cast a charm on them so that it will never grow back.”

Dolohov's expression altered at once into one of horror. He and Rockwood exchanged horrified looks. Then, before they could even tell what was happening, both of their wands went soaring out of their hands and into hers.

“Come on inside then,” she said cheerfully. Without waiting for a response from the two, she grabbed them both by the front of their robes and practically dragged them inside. Closing the door after them, she beamed at the pair.

“Oh, the three of us are going to have so much fun!” she exclaimed clapping her hands together. She dragged the two into the living room and made them sit on the sofa. Lucius and Narcissa were sitting beside each other on the floor completely bald, not talking, and just cradling the sad remains of their hair in their hands.

“We have guests,” Hermione sang at both of them. “and their wands can now join yours. She tossed the wands into the fireplace. Then she aimed her own wand at all of the windows and doors in the room. They all closed and locked themselves up tight. Smiling brightly, Hermione made her way over to the T.V. 

“Now since it's apparent that you two are so into the Teletubbies, I have some old episodes recorded on tape!” Hermione exclaimed. “We are going to watch all of them. And then we can watch them again and again. It will be so much fun!” she giggled madly.

“Merlin, she could compete with Bellatrix Lestrange for insanity and win,” Rookwood muttered to Dolohov. He said nothing and merely nodded too shell-shocked to do anything.

“Eventually, I'm sure that your Master will come for you,” Hermione continued. “But at the moment, I'm not sharing you. It's not often that Death Munchers are foolish enough to wander into my midst.” she said happily. “But when they do, I always make sure that they have a good time with me.” she smiled and then leaned in close to Dolohov ad Rookwood. “When I had the Lestranges here last week, I made Rodolphus cry and he has to live with Bella,” she said with an eerie smile. “Foolish Death Bites, they thought they could actually kidnap me.” 

Dolohov let out a whimper. Rookwood buried his face in his hands. 

“Oh by the way,” she said as she started up the VCR. “I know a good spell that could make your current appearance permanent. I could perform it very easily.”

Just as the show was beginning to start, they were all distracted by a large bang. The door leading to the hall burst from its hinges. There in the doorway stood Lord Voldemort. His eyes flashed red as he scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on Hermione.

“Granger,” he hissed. “What is the meaning of all of this?”

“Well you see, Voldy, your Death Eaters came to visit me with your proposal, they were so polite that I invited them all in,” Hermione explained. 

“…and played Barber Shop with the Malfoy's,” Voldemort said.

“…and played Barber Shop with the Mafoy's,” Hermione agreed. 

“Did you really think that you would get away with this?” he asked her coldly.

“No,” she replied. “But it was fun watching Lucius Malfoy scream like a little girl at the sight of his hair lying on the floor.”

“Be that as it may, they are my Death Eaters and I...” he trailed off as he glanced at the screen. “Are you watching the Teletubbies?” he asked.

“We were about to yes,” Hermione answered. “Why do you like the Teletubbies?”

“I love them!” Voldemort exclaimed. “Can I watch too?”

“Sure,” Hermione said. 

Voldemort squealed and clapped his hands together excitedly. He then ran over to the sofa and plopped down on it right in between Dolohov and Rookwood. His eyes were fixed on the screen, a look of happiness on his face.

Hermione chuckled slightly. “You may stay as long as you like,” she said. “I'm going to be a bit busy making little half-blooded Malfoy heirs.” She then winked at Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and exited the room, but not before repairing the door. 

As Dolohov sat there, he realized what made so many people stay out of Wizarding wars like this one. It wasn't cowardice on their part, but understanding. It was being knowledgeable to the fact that where there was an evil monster on the Dark side, the Light had one too. They sure had one on both sides of the war.

And their names were Lord Voldmort and Hermione Granger.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story over ten years ago at 3 in the morning. I have no idea where it came from then. I still have no idea where it came from now. Right, to whoever is reading this hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
